Unlikely
by Ciara in cotton socks
Summary: On Christmas Eve, fate brings two unlikely characters together.  Both are suffering from the backlash of unrequited love, and both are in need of a hand to hold.  What follows could never have been predicted, and changes everything for the better...


**A/N: Written for HollyWrites' Christmas Challenge on the HPFC forum. My prompt was 'laughing', the place was 'classroom', and the boy and girl I drew were James Potter and Pansy Parkinson. Apologies in advance, because I think they both get quite OOC at times, in my humble opinion! **

**Please read and review, as an extra Christmas pressie for me?**

**Enjoy, and have a very Merry Christmas!**

**/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/**

James Potter burst into the Gryffindor common room, a dangerous glint in the hazel depths of his eyes. The circular room was practically empty; it was Christmas Eve and most students had gone home for the holidays. Only three figures remained, nestled close to the fire. Sirius Black was sprawled across the rug in front of the fireplace, flat on his back. The Snitch James had stolen from one of their Quidditch matches was clenched in his fist. At intervals he released the tiny golden ball and allowed it to escape a couple of inches above him before grabbing it again. Remus Lupin was curled up in the armchair closest to the fire, his knees drawn up to his chest as he bent over a heavy leather-bound book, while Peter Pettigrew flopped unceremoniously across the sofa with a bag of Honeydukes' finest confectionary courtesy of the One-Eyed Witch Passage. The trio glanced up in unison as James arrived and Sirius struggled upright, a mischievous grin alighting on his handsome features.

"Oi Prongs!" he called teasingly. "You've been gone an awfully long time. Stalking Evans again?"

At the mention if Lily's surname, James' expression darkened. He glowered in spectacular fashion and flopped down next to Peter on the couch. His features fell into an uncharacteristically glum expression, heavy furrows ploughing into his proud brow and his face sagging with poorly-disguised pain. He bit his lower lip bitterly, leaned over, grabbed a handful of Pepper Imps and chucked them at Sirius. One of them hit him squarely between the eyes.

"_Don't_ talk about her," James growled. Peter and Remus exchanged surprised glances; Sirius, on the other hand, snickered. He reached up to ruffle James' already untidy mop of dark hair.

"What happened Prongs?" he asked teasingly. "Did you declare your undying love for her in a very public place, only to have her brutally reject you in front of staff and students alike again?" He meant it as a joke, but the grin slid off his face like Stinksap when he saw James' expression. He gulped and hoisted himself up onto the sofa on James' other side. "Blimey mate, I'm sorry. Still-" he punched his best friend's arm bracingly- "Plenty more fish in the sea, eh?"

James shoved his arm away and pinched the bridge of his nose. He started to mess up his hair, then froze and seemed to remember something. He dropped his hand as though he had been burned.

"I love her," he sighed bitterly. The other Marauders exchanged looks varying from shock to panic at this; James Potter, expressing genuine emotion? This was something new, and none of them knew quite how to deal with it. James' face contorted and he flopped back lethargically into the sofa cushions. "I love her, and she doesn't love me back... Merlin, she's _everywhere_. I need to get away from her, just for a bit. Away from her face and her smell and... well, _her_."

"Unrequited love," Remus murmured quietly, shooting his friend a sympathetic glance. "It's awful James, I know, but what can you do about it? It's not like you can just scarper for a couple of hours, is it?"

"Ah Moony," James said with a trace of his usual impishness. "That's where you're wrong. Observe!"

With a flourish and a shadow of his usual mischievous smirk, he reached inside the neck of his robes and fished out what appeared to be-

"A Time Turner?" Sirius exclaimed incredulously.

"Where did you get it Prongs?" Remus asked with keen interest.

"Nicked it from McGonagall's office," said James casually. Then he pulled a face, remembering. "When she hauled me in for yelling at Lil- Evans."

"Prongs, you're not going to use it, are you?" Peter asked. He bit his lip and looked nervously from Sirius to Remus and back again, as though hoping one of them would share his trepidation.

"Why on earth wouldn't I?"

"Peter's right James," Remus said quietly, getting to his feet. He closed his book with a dull thud, his expression unusually grave. "You shouldn't mess with time, anything could happen. It's dangerous."

"I think a bit of danger is exactly what I need right now," James muttered. "Any of you want to join me?"

Silence met his question. He rolled his eyes at both Remus and Peter's fearful expressions and turned to Sirius, sitting beside him.

"What do you say Padfoot? It could be laugh." He tried to disguise the note of pleading in his voice, but he didn't think he had deceived Sirius; the other boy's smile was a little too knowing for his liking.

"Mate, they're right. It's not a good idea. I had a cousin who went back in time with one of those once- his past self saw him and killed him on the spot."

"I'm not going into the past," James retorted coolly. "I'm going into the future."

And before any of them could utter a single word or try to stop him, James had begun to spin the tiny golden hourglass with feverish excitement. None of them could count how many times he had spun it- they didn't think James could either- and just as Sirius reached out to take his friend's arm James disappeared.

The three remaining Marauders stared at each other, dumbstruck. Only the sound of Peter's chewing broke the silence until finally Sirius clambered to his feet, ashen-faced and gasping. He ran a trembling hand through his dark locks. He stared at the space where James had been.

"Moony, go get the invisibility cloak from James' trunk, we need to pay the one-eyed witch another visit. I need a drink."

/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/

In another time, it was also Christmas Eve. Hogwarts castle was dusted with a fine coating of white snow, the grounds almost completely blanketed in the stuff. The corridors were devoid of life; most of the students had already gone home for the holidays, and those who remained were cosily cosseted in their common rooms away from the icy draughts whistling through the castle. A handful of Gryffindors were huddled in their tower, a couple of Ravenclaws in theirs. A cheerful cluster of Hufflepuffs were gathered in their underground common room, merrily celebrating the holidays. The Slytherins' dungeon common room, however, was completely empty. A single Slytherin had elected to spend the holidays at Hogwarts, and she couldn't bear to be in that room. Everything there reminded her of the boy she so badly wanted to forget.

Pansy Parkinson sat on a desk in the Transfiguration classroom, watching the snow fall from the dark sky outside. Her slim legs dangled in midair and her arms were crossed over her flat chest. Her long, dark hair hung in curtains around her face. Every so often she sniffed slightly and dabbed at her eyes with an emerald green handkerchief. It had been several days since Draco had left to spend Christmas with his precious family in Malfoy Manor, and the shock of his rejection still stung like a slap in the face. Pansy wasn't quite sure what she had ever seen in him- he was skinny, he had a horrible pointed face that made him look like an albino rat and he used more hair products than she did to keep that ridiculous blonde hair slick to his head. Anger boiled in her veins.

How _dare_ he reject her like that? And in front of the entire house, too? Pansy was outraged. She had been there for Draco through thick and thin. When he got slashed by that Hippogriff, Pansy sat with him in the hospital wing, and she did the same when that Potter oddity attacked him in the bathroom. When his father had been imprisoned amid rumours of an attack on Potter and his pathetic little friends at the Ministry, Pansy was the one he came running to. And when whatever task the Dark Lord had given him became too much and he ended up drunk on Firewhiskey in the Hog's Head on a Hogsmeade trip, Pansy was the one who had helped him get back up to the castle. He had thrown up all over her best shoes too, but Pansy sat with him all night regardless.

They had been companions since long before Hogwarts; their parents were always friendly. Pansy was as close to him as Draco allowed anybody to get. They had gone to the Yule Ball together, and afterwards he had kissed her lips, her cheeks, her neck. How long had they been together? How many times had he held her hand in the corridors? How often had he pulled her into empty classrooms and allowed his hands to roam all over her as she giggled girlishly and tried to maintain some vestige of composure? How many times had he told her he loved her?

And now he had cast her aside as easily as a ragdoll.

The scene from a couple of days ago swam in front of her, taunting her. They had stood in the middle of that dark, extravagant common room just before he left for the holidays, with the rest of Slytherin house milling around. Pansy had reached out to stroke his face- he always liked that- but he had taken her hand and shoved it away roughly. His grey eyes were cold and unfeeling as he stared at her and muttered those immortal words, the words every girl dreads to hear:

"_There's someone else_."

Her blood had run cold in her veins, her heart thumping frantically in her chest. She remembered hearing people around her murmuring, some of them even laughing, and Draco turning away from her without so much as a second glance. And to add insult to injury, this 'someone else' who had ruined her perfect fairytale was none other than Astoria Greengrass. The girl was two years younger than her for Merlin's sake! And Pansy was not a vain person, but even she could see that she was prettier than Astoria, who had curly brown hair and ridiculous doe-eyes.

It was stupid, she knew that now, but she had always imagined a happy ending for her and Draco. Silly really. But she had fantasised about the two of them riding off into the sunset together, the perfect pureblood pairing. They would get married quite young and Pansy would provide Draco with an heir, and they would all live in Malfoy Manor. Pansy liked the idea of having a big estate to command. And servants! The Malfoys had servants who she, as the lady of the house, would take control of. She could be the perfect wife to Draco's high-ranking Ministry official. Their photograph would forever be in the _Daily Prophet_, and their life would be idyllic.

The fairytale was destroyed now though, leaving its heroine without a knight on a white charger to rescue her.

Pansy's thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise outside the classroom door. She tensed; it was after curfew, and she really shouldn't be out of the common room. Her fears were lessened however as she heard a string of curse-words and another series of loud thumps. It sounded like a boy, no older than herself.

Sure enough, a moment later the door of the classroom swung open and a figure appeared. The boy couldn't have been older than sixteen or seventeen. He was dressed in Hogwarts robes, but they looked very old-fashioned and Pansy was certain she had never seen him before. She did think he bore a rather striking resemblance to Draco's old foe Harry Potter, but this boy had deep, hazel eyes and there was no ugly scar slicing his forehead open. He looked unsettled and a little lost, staring around wide-eyed and gasping for breath. For a moment, he didn't even see her sitting there, but then his eyes found her.

"Uh- hello," he said hesitantly.

"Hello," Pansy replied, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Are you alright? You look rather lost."

"I- yes, yes I suppose I am. Where exactly am I?"

Pansy shot him a bemused glance. "Professor McGonagall's classroom... Transfiguration, you know?"

"McGonagall?" the boy said, tasting the word uncertainly. "Wait, so Dumbledore's not here anymore?"

"Do you mean Dumbledore, the Headmaster?" Pansy asked. She was starting to think this boy might be mad, which was something of a pity because he was quite good-looking. The boy stared at her for a moment, confused. He mouthed the word 'Headmaster?' almost to himself and then recovered. He shot her an apologetic smile and stuck out a hand for Pansy to shake.

"I'm sorry, I'm new here," he said smoothly. "Transfer student. James P-Evans. James Evans. Nice to meet you."

"You too. I'm Pansy, by the way. Pansy Parkinson."

"Well Pansy Parkinson," James said with a grin. "What are you doing, sitting here all alone on- wait, it _is_ Christmas Eve, right?"

Pansy giggled slightly; this boy was dottier than Luna Lovegood. "Yes, it is. Well, for another-" she glanced at the tiny silver wristwatch on her slim left wrist- "ten minutes, anyway. And in answer to your question, I'm moping."

"Moping?" James asked curiously, inching towards her.

"Yes," said Pansy defensively. "Moping. I have every right, you know. I'm heartbroken."

She wasn't quite sure why she was telling him this, blurting out her feelings to a complete stranger. Maybe it was _because_ he was a complete stranger, somebody who didn't know the ins and outs of her supposedly picture-perfect life. That, and the fact that his cheeky, smiling face seemed to invite confidences.

"Relationship trouble, eh?" James guessed, coming to sit next to her on the desk. "I know all about that... Admittedly, I'm usually the cause of them, but right now I feel about the same as you look."

"You do?" Pansy whispered. James nodded sympathetically. He seemed to think for a moment, as though he was trying to remember something. Then his expression cleared.

"Unrequited love," he recited carefully. "It's a right pain in the-"

"Yes, yes, alright," Pansy smirked, a dull red flush spreading across her high cheekbones. She stole a glance at James; his cheeky grin had been replaced by a sad, broken expression. Pansy was pretty sure it was a mirror image of her own expression, and she reached out tentatively to pat his arm. "Wh-what's her name? The girl you love?"

"Lily," James said hoarsely.

"Well, I think she's mad not to love you back," Pansy told him seriously. James barked out a laugh at that.

"Er- thanks, I guess. And what, pray tell, is the name of the bloke who left you crying in the Transfiguration classroom, all alone on Christmas Eve?"

"Rub it in, why don't you?" Pansy grumbled, taking a rough swipe at the tear trickling down her cheek. She stuck her nose in the air superiorly and turned to look out the window once more. The snow was still falling thick and fast.

"Oh Merlin, I'm sorry!" James exclaimed when she gave a loud, undisguised sniffle. "I- I didn't think, I never bloody well do. It's like, open mouth, insert foot. It's the same with Lily, I make her hate me and I really don't mean to, I want to make her love me and-"

"James," Pansy said softly, interrupting him mid-rant. "It's alright. I'm sorry, I overreacted. It's my worst habit. And it's Draco, by the way. His name."

"Draco?" James snorted before he could stop himself. "What sort of name is that? Sounds like a right prat."

Pansy couldn't stop herself from laughing. It wasn't even particularly funny, but a startled giggle escaped her and once it had started it was impossible to stop. Laughter swelled up inside her and erupted like a volcano. She gasped for breath as she laughed, and it felt good. She didn't think she had been this happy in a long time.

"He... he _is_... is a prat!" she gasped between bursts of laughter. James stared at her as though she was mad, but she just couldn't stop. It felt so good to just be happy, without worrying about whether or not Draco would find it attractive. She had worried about what he thought for far too long. Wiping away a tear of mirth, she put a hand on James' arm. "I'm sorry, it's just... I let him take over my life for far too long. I was too blind to see what he was really like. Besotted, I think that's the word. It's just a relief to have rid of those feelings."

She beamed contentedly and hugged herself. James smiled too, locking eyes with her almost hungrily.

"You laugh like Lily," he whispered hoarsely.

"I- excuse me?"

"When you laugh, your whole face sort of lights up. Your eyes crinkle at the sides, like Lily's."

"They do?" Pansy asked, panicked. She looked around desperately for a reflective surface, horrified. James took her two wrists and held her firm.

"Hey, hey, it's a good thing!" he said hurriedly. "It makes you look so free, so happy. Beautiful, even."

Pansy blushed again as he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Nobody's ever told me I looked beautiful before," she murmured with a shock of realisation. It was true. In all the time they had been together, Draco had never said anything as sweet as that.

"Well then, they didn't deserve you," James said softly. He took her chin gently and forced her to look at him. "Because you are beautiful, Pansy."

And before she could stop him he had leaned in, cocking his head slightly to the side, and pressed his lips gently to hers. He tasted good, Pansy realised, like chocolate and Butterbeer. And he was warm, so warm- Draco had always been cold beneath her touch. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the kiss, a tiny moan rippling through her as James' kisses travelled down her neck and back to her lips, his tongue inviting itself inside. Eventually, he broke away from her.

"That was the most romantic thing ever," Pansy gasped breathlessly. "I knew I was right. This Lily's mad to let you go."

James' hand flew to his raven-black hair, ruffling it up even more than it already was. Like Pansy, his face bore a scarlet glow and he looked at his feet self-consciously. He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses further up his straight, proud nose and smiled shyly.

"She's really not, you know. I can be a right pillock when I put my mind to it."

"Well, that's an easy fix," Pansy said brightly. He looked expectantly at her. "Just act like you're acting now all the time."

She looked at him carefully as his face returned to its usual colour. She recognised the look in his eyes and she smiled sadly as she took his hand in hers.

"You still love her, don't you?" she asked.

"I-I think I do, yeah," James said sheepishly. "And- and I shouldn't have kissed you, it wasn't fair, and I'm sorry but-"

"But you just wanted her out of your head for a while," Pansy finished. She smiled and squeezed his hand companionably. "Don't worry, I get it. But promise me something."

"What?"

"Next time you see this Lily, you tell her what you told me. All about not wanting to make her hate you, and feeling like a pillock and loving her."

"Tell her? Are you joking?" yelped James. Pansy shook her head gravely.

"A girl loves a boy who can be honest with her," she whispered, wincing slightly as the words reopened the Draco-shaped wound in her heart. James leaned over and gave her shoulders a quick comforting squeeze, before clambering clumsily to his feet with an apologetic grin. He fidgeted with something around his neck, and Pansy saw what looked like a small hourglass on a chain. She remembered seeing something similar around the Granger girl's neck in their third year, and something clicked inside her.

"I- uh, look, I have to go," James said, sounding slightly agitated. He gave her a quick lopsided smile. "I'm sorry."

He took her face in his hands and pressed his lips quickly to her forehead before turning and walking to the door.

"James!" Pansy called, and he turned to face her once more. She sighed. "I'm never going to see you again, am I?"

"I doubt it," he agreed, with a little shake of his head. "How'd you know?"

Pansy gave a little snort of laughter. "Your robes are more old-fashioned than Weasley's."

James looked confused at this, and Pansy thought she saw him mouth 'Arthur Weasley?' to himself. Then he shook himself like a horse dislodging a pesky fly and raised a hand in an awkward farewell.

"Well then- goodbye."

"Bye James."

He had disappeared out the door before appearing again around the doorframe, yet another grin on his cheeky face.

"Oh, and Pansy?"

"Yes?"

"Don't ever settle for anyone who doesn't tell you you're beautiful. You deserve better than that."

And with that, he was really gone. Pansy was left sitting alone on the desk again, watching as the snow fell outside. But all her tears were gone, replaced instead by a smile. It had been far too long since she had smiled properly. She glanced at her watch and her smile stretched a little wider.

"Merry Christmas James," she whispered.

/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/

James Potter had barely reappeared in the Gryffindor common room before he was yelling up the spiral staircase to the girl's corridor, bellowing Lily's name as loud as he possibly could. It took a couple of minutes, but sure enough, a familiar head of copper hair soon appeared. Lily was dressed in her pyjamas and a pink flannel robe and wore a thoroughly disgruntled expression.

"What do you want Potter?" she scowled crossly, clearly hoping to put him off.

"Lily," James said seriously. "I'm a prat."

The girl snorted. "You never spoke a truer word Potter."

"No, listen! I-I'm a prat, and I'm sorry. The thing is... I mean, what I'm trying to say is... Look, I really like you. I mean it Lily, and I know you think I don't, but I _do_. And I know I'm a complete arse to you sometimes-"

"Sometimes?"

"Well, all the time really, but what I'm trying to say is that I know I'm awful to you, and you have every right to hate me. I wouldn't blame you, I really wouldn't, but I suppose what I'm saying here is that the reason I act like that is because somewhere in my stupid Quidditch-obsessed brain I feel like it's the only way to make you notice me."

"Is that it?"

"No. I want you to consider this as an apology, and a promise to never treat you like that ever again. I-I love you Lily Evans, and I want you to love me too."

When James stopped speaking, he was gasping for breath. He had never done that before, displayed his heart on his sleeve so prominently for someone to see and stamp on. He hardly dared to glance at Lily, whose mouth was a thin line.

_Oh Merlin, _he thought desperately. _She hates me. She hates me, and I've made an absolute idiot out of myself. I'm never going to live this down, and she hates me and-_

"There's another Hogsmeade weekend coming up in January," Lily said quietly. "I don't know about love, but maybe we could get a Butterbeer together."

And with that, she turned on her heel and went back upstairs to bed, leaving James standing, shell-shocked, at the bottom of the staircase unable to believe his luck. He turned, running his hands through his hair and saw the rest of the Marauders standing in front of the portrait hole wearing expressions as incredulous as his own surely was. He shrugged sheepishly and glanced out the window. Snow was beginning to fall outside.

As Sirius, Remus and Peter rushed at him with lots of back-slapping, hand-pumping and excited whooping, James just stood frozen with astonishment.

_Merry Christmas Pansy, _he thought.


End file.
